


out with it

by thunderylee



Category: Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationship, Canon Universe, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-26
Updated: 2012-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-18 07:34:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12383727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: One idol goes into the closet, but two come out of it.





	out with it

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for cotton candy bingo (coming out).

“It’s that time of the month again!” Fujigaya announces sarcastically, plastering a very big, very fake grin on his face.

“Can you not put it like that…” Kitayama mumbles, sufficiently disgusted.

“I have an idea for what we should do this time,” Fujigaya says, ignoring the other man as usual as he plops down on the couch a comfortable distance away. “Double date!”

“Double date?” Kitayama repeats, gaping a little. “With _you_?”

“The fans will love it,” Fujigaya insists. “And we’ll get to actually be around girls. I bet the old man would put it on TV and everything. Win/win.”

“For you, maybe,” Kitayama grumbles.

Fujigaya frowns at him. “Would you rather have an awkward evening with just me instead? Isn’t it better to at least pretend we have some dignity on these stupid forced outings?”

“Whatever,” Kitayama reluctantly agrees. He gave up his dignity a long time ago. “Set it up.”

“Don’t worry,” Fujigaya says, smirking a little as he flips open his phone. “I’ll make sure your girl isn’t taller than you.”

“How thoughtful of you,” Kitayama says dryly.

Naturally, Johnny is thrilled by the idea and praises Fujigaya for being so proactive. The girls are models Kitayama’s never heard of, both of them at least five years younger than him. They’re pretty enough, he supposes. He’s certainly spent the evening with worse people, present company included.

The TV station that picked up the special go all out and film them getting ready, too, which requires that they get ready _together_. Kitayama has seen girls get ready for _weddings_ in less time than Fujigaya spends in front of his bathroom mirror, digging into his giant bag of hair products and other cosmetics that is possibly too big to carry onto an airplane. Kitayama doesn’t even know what half of that shit is and he’s an idol, too.

He supposes he should be grateful that Fujigaya had already chosen his outfit before he arrived, otherwise they would have had to start filming at sunrise. As it is, he falls asleep during Fujigaya’s monologue about some kind of face cream, but it works out in his favor as he feels much more energized when he wakes up.

The girls are fun and cute, and Kitayama actually finds that he’s enjoying himself as they go window shopping. Fujigaya’s abnormally quiet, but Kitayama knows he’s playing the Shu card because “bitches love that passive shit” (direct quote). As expected, Fujigaya’s girl is clinging to his arm, hanging off his every (rare) word with her entire focus on him, while Kitayama and his own girl are talking animatedly about the store displays and wherever the conversation tangents from there.

Doing this in front of a camera was a great idea, Kitayama has to admit, because it’s just another day at work. He’s not even expected to kiss the girl this time. Maybe he’ll finally let Fujigaya drag him to the club for next month’s forced outing to make it up to him. Kitayama is actually having _fun_ , something he didn’t think he would ever have with Fujigaya in close proximity.

Afternoon turns into evening and Kitayama’s getting hungry, so they move to the next number on Fujigaya’s three-step date plan—dinner. The girls want to freshen up, so they disappear into the ladies’ room, and Kitayama frowns in concern when Fujigaya slumps into the men’s room looking uncomfortable. He tries not to care, but his curiosity gets the best of him and he follows, giving the camera crew a break and the fangirls a likely heart attack because oh my god they went into the bathroom together.

Kitayama finds Fujigaya standing at the sink, staring at himself in the mirror, and can’t resist the opportunity. “I know you think you’re prettier than your date, but this is a little extreme.”

“This was an _awful_ idea,” Fujigaya explodes, and Kitayama raises his eyebrows. “I feel so ridiculous and embarrassed and I just want to go home.”

“Um,” Kitayama says, switching gears faster than he would like. He hasn’t had to comfort this one since they were teenagers. “Maybe try being yourself? The Shu thing is great and all, but if it’s too much to keep up, maybe you should—”

“Shu thing?” Fujigaya repeats, then recognition dawns in his eyes. “Oh, right, um. I’m kind of a liar. I don’t pick up girls that way.”

“I would hope not,” Kitayama says gently. “That’s kind of a douche move.”

“I don’t pick up girls at all,” Fujigaya goes on. “They usually come to me, and it’s just…weird. Like how _this_ is weird. I thought it would be easier on camera, but it’s not because I still have to think of stuff to say and there’s no contest and even if there was, I’d be losing to you. How do you do it?”

“What?” Kitayama asks, scrambling to follow Fujigaya’s uncharacteristic train of thought. “How do I do what?”

“You make it look so easy,” Fujigaya says. “Talking to girls and stuff.”

Kitayama shrugs. “I just talk to them. Make the best out of the situation, right? Just like I do with you, only nicer.”

The mirror reflects Fujigaya’s eyeroll, but he looks much less anxious. “I guess. She seems to like me well enough, but it’s just so _awkward_. I don’t know what to say or do or where to put my hands. I really don’t want the world to see me like this. It’s bad enough you’re seeing it.”

“They’ll probably like you more,” Kitayama points out. “I mean, this girl can’t stay away from you and she didn’t even know who we were until a few hours ago. Girls like the whole shy, nervous thing, right? It makes them want to get you to open up or something.”

Fujigaya makes a noncommittal noise as he stands tall next to Kitayama, looming over him even more. “At least I look better than you.”

“Whatever,” Kitayama says, hiding a smile. It’s too late—Fujigaya’s already revealed his vulnerable side, and every cocky thing he says from now on is just a coverup.

Feeling a little better about himself, Kitayama returns to the table and studies the menu. He shares his opinions on the dinner selections with his date when she returns and notices Fujigaya doing the same thing with his. They engage in conversation easily, Kitayama prompting Fujigaya to contribute and gearing the topics around things he would normally have something to say about.

Fujigaya converses well enough, but each time his date says something sweet to him, he flushes and looks away. It’s almost cute, which has Kitayama wrinkling his nose at the thought. He can’t deny it, though, and he admits to himself that if Fujigaya acted like this around them, or at least more humble, Kitayama would probably get along with him much better. He wonders if there’s some kind of comfortable medium where Fujigaya doesn’t have to be either a pompous ass or a blushing schoolgirl, then realizes that he’s ignoring his date and returns his attention to her.

“Kitayama-kun is a good friend,” she whispers to him in understanding, and he stares at her because she’s actually right—he had been helping Fujigaya out just like a friend would. They haven’t been friends in a long time, which is kind of a depressing thought. He wonders why they had to grow apart despite being in the same unit.

After dinner is karaoke, where Fujigaya shows much more confidence through his voice. Normally Kitayama would fight him for the song selections, but he’s content to just lean back and relax as Fujigaya’s date swoons over his voice. There’s a reason they’re the two main singers of the group, Kitayama rationalizes as he starts to relax to the soothing melodies Fujigaya sings. Perhaps they should do a duet and really give the fangirls heart attacks when this airs on TV.

It’s Fujigaya who suggests it, picking an old KAT-TUN ballad they know forwards and backwards, and both girls look enamored when they’re done. They encourage the girls to sing as well, and it actually feels like a fun evening out with friends. At least until Kitayama feels a small hand in his, pushing a piece of paper into his palm.

“I really like you, Kitayama-kun,” his date whispers. “Guys who look out for their friends are so attractive to me. This is my number. You should call me.”

Not to be outdone, the other girl drapes herself over Fujigaya’s shoulders as he finishes singing their last song, leading him to almost miss a note. His eyes are wide and Kitayama feels a need to put an end to this before it gets worse. “I’m sorry, but our agency doesn’t allow us to date,” he tells his girl, frowning so that he looks upset about it.

“I’m okay with sneaking around,” she replies, and he chokes on his next breath. “Call me if you change your mind.”

After that, the evening can’t end soon enough, and Kitayama feels as awkward as Fujigaya has been all night as they wrap up the double date with big idol smiles. The camera crew packs up and leaves, and Fujigaya looks elated the second the girls’ car door closes.

“Ugh, it’s late,” Fujigaya whines as they head back to Kitayama’s place. “I still have to lug all of my shit home.”

“Just stay over,” Kitayama tells him. “We have meetings tomorrow anyway.”

“I can’t wear your clothes,” Fujigaya points out. “High-waters aren’t in style anymore.”

Kitayama punches him half-heartedly in the arm, and Fujigaya snickers. “Glad to see you’re back to your old self.”

“About that…” Fujigaya starts, his laughter fading. “You won’t tell anyone, right? I mean, if you want to sneak around with that girl, I’ll keep your secret.”

“I’m not going to sneak around with her,” Kitayama replies, then notices how uneasy Fujigaya looks. “But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you’re actually a huge failure with girls.”

Fujigaya looks like he wants to punch him back, but contains himself. “Thanks.”

Then he yawns, clearly exhausted, and Kitayama rolls his eyes. “Just stay over. You can get up early enough to go home first and change.”

“Mm,” Fujigaya mumbles, and Kitayama takes it as a yes. He pulls out his phone to text Fujigaya’s mom, who replies immediately to thank him for taking care of her son.

“You have no idea,” Kitayama says under his breath as they pull up in front of his building, nudging Fujigaya in the shoulder until he stirs. “Wake up, man. I can’t carry you.”

Fujigaya laughs himself awake, his heavy eyelids unfocused and his hair messed up on one side. “Wouldn’t the fangirls love to see that,” he mutters, and Kitayama snorts. “They’d probably all fall in love with you for being so considerate, then I wouldn’t have to worry about them attacking me in the clubs anymore.”

“Only you would complain about that,” Kitayama mutters as he yanks Fujigaya out of the car by his arm. He nods his thanks to the driver for both of them, then lugs Fujigaya into his building and all the way up the stairs. By the time he gets to his front door, he thinks that it probably would have been easier to carry him on his back like a child.

Fujigaya looks to all the world like he’s drunk, but they’d only had a couple beers at the karaoke place. He’s just tired, exceptionally so, and Kitayama can relate to that. There comes a point where his body just shuts down and says “no more” no matter how much he tries to stay awake. They’d had a long day, which was even more stressful for Fujigaya, who was the one in the middle of filming a drama.

Kitayama has a hint of sympathy for him, which is the only reason he pulls Fujigaya right into the bathroom and washes the day off of his face. He’d put both of their bangs up in rubber bands and he’s fully aware that they look like two teenage girls at a slumber party right now, but he knows that Fujigaya will be even crabbier tomorrow if he wakes up feeling gross.

“Your touch is surprisingly gentle,” Fujigaya mumbles, his eyes closed, and Kitayama pauses for a second before quickly finishing.

He finds an extra toothbrush from the Costco pack his mom had bought him and throws it at Fujigaya’s chest. “I’m not doing this for you.”

Leaving him to it, Kitayama takes out some blankets and a pillow from the linen closet and tosses them onto the couch before retreating to his closet. He finds a T-shirt and a pair of shorts with a drawstring and flings them at Fujigaya as he comes out of the bathroom, taking his place to brush his own teeth.

He notices Fujigaya lingering in the doorway, leaning his head against the doorframe and holding onto the clothes as Kitayama spits. “What? Is there something else you need?”

“Why won’t you hook up with her?” Fujigaya asks. “I mean, I know what my excuse is, but you got on so well with her. And I know you’re not a saint, because you come into work disheveled and in a good mood more often than the rest of us.”

“I’m not interested in dating girls,” Kitayama says around his toothbrush.

“Who said anything about dating?” Fujigaya says with a laugh. He’s tired enough for it to come out quite deep, making it sound dirtier than it is.

“I’m not interested in fucking girls either,” Kitayama says pointedly. “Let it be.”

He finishes brushing his teeth and returns to his closet, this time for himself. He doesn’t notice that Fujigaya had followed him until he changes shirts, nearly losing his balance when he sees him out of the corner of his eye.

“Jesus, you scared me,” Kitayama gasps. “What do you _want_? I thought you were tired.”

“You said it like it was forever,” Fujigaya tells him, pointing accusingly. “You didn’t say ‘right now’, you said you weren’t interested, period.”

“And?” Kitayama prompts, hopping into a pair of sweats. “It’s not that difficult to put together, Taisuke, even for someone like you.”

The insult goes completely over Fujigaya’s head as he stares at Kitayama in confusion. If it was about anything else, it would be amusing, but Kitayama’s just getting frustrated because he never actually wanted to come out and say it, especially to this one. Saying it puts a label on him, and it’s much easier to deal with when the others just understand like normal people with functioning brains.

Sighing, because Fujigaya looks like he’s about to hurt himself if he thinks about it anymore, Kitayama walks up to him and pushes him back a bit, then takes a big, dramatic step out of his closet. “Get it yet?”

Fujigaya blinks. “How would you walking out of the closet make me get it?”

“ _I’m not interested in girls_ ,” Kitayama reiterates, shaking a little from the way his nerves react. “At all.”

Realization dawns upon Fujigaya’s face, and predictably he takes a few steps backwards. “Does that mean you’re interested in guys?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what it means,” Kitayama answers. “And don’t do anything dumb like try to go home right now, because I have no intentions of jumping you.”

“I wasn’t thinking—” Fujigaya cuts himself off, then looks guilty. “Sorry. I don’t know anyone else who is…you know, like this.”

“Yes you do,” Kitayama says, smirking a little, and now Fujigaya looks even more freaked out. “Just go to sleep, okay?”

“Well _now_ I’m awake!” Fujigaya exclaims, his eyes wide and alert. “How do you even know…when did you…you actually…with _men_?”

“You really want to know?” Kitayama asks, and Fujigaya nods slowly. “Fine. I was thirteen when I noticed that I didn’t look at girls the same way other boys did, even on TV and stuff, and whatever confusion I had about it was more than cleared up when I joined the soccer club the next year.”

Fujigaya blinks. “That young? I was nineteen when I did it for the first time.”

“I know,” Kitayama replies. “You told us all about it. Quite graphically.”

“I wouldn’t have if I’d have known,” Fujigaya says, a bit sheepishly.

“Yes you would have,” Kitayama argues, “just to gross me out.”

Fujigaya laughs stiffly. “Probably. But why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why do I have to tell you?” Kitayama counters. “It’s not your business what I do behind closed doors.”

“You said you weren’t the only one,” Fujigaya recalls suddenly. “Who else?”

“It’s not my place to tell you that.” Kitayama folds his arms, starting to get mildly irritated. “But it’s too risky to go outside the agency and I sure as hell haven’t been celibate for ten years.”

“This is too much to process,” Fujigaya says, sitting down on Kitayama’s bed and holding his temples.

“Process it out on my couch,” Kitayama tells him. “If I wanted you in my bed, I’d put you there myself.”

Fujigaya makes an amazing violated face, at which Kitayama nearly doubles over laughing as Fujigaya trips over himself to head to the door. When Kitayama picks himself up off the floor, Fujigaya’s the one glaring at him with his arms folded, and Kitayama tilts his head expectantly.

“You really don’t think I’m hot?” Fujigaya says, sounding affronted. “I mean, since you like guys and all, I should be at the top of your list.”

“Do you want to be at the top of my list?” Kitayama taunts him, and Fujigaya takes a step back. “Go to sleep, homophobe.”

“I am _not_ —”

Kitayama cuts him off by walking towards the door, gently nudging Fujigaya out of his room. “I said I didn’t want to fuck you, not that you’re not good-looking. Now go to sleep and don’t think too hard about it.”

He closes the door just in time to muffle Fujigaya’s “I knew you thought I was hot!” Kitayama rolls his eyes as he flops onto his bed, forgetting all about Fujigaya and girls and awkward double dating specials that will undoubtedly start a trend. Just the thought of Senga and Nikaido being forced to do a double dating special has him laughing himself to sleep.

If he had planned this, he would have come out to Fujigaya just before one of their infamous Duet shoots, just to see how uncomfortable he gets being that close to _a gay_ , but sadly their work the next day is just a meeting about boring shit like holiday promotions and scheduling future meetings. Kitayama can barely stay awake, and they’d gotten plenty of sleep before Fujigaya snuck out like he was doing the walk of shame.

Fujigaya is about the farthest from a professional one can get, but he contains himself and doesn’t look any more distracted than usual. Kitayama catches his eye a few times, but it’s funny to watch him quickly look away and pretend to be deeply interested in his pen. The more he does it, the more Kitayama wonders if this isn’t something more than just Fujigaya coming to terms with Kitayama’s sexuality. Or, should he say, it’s Fujigaya coming to terms with more than just _Kitayama’s_ sexuality.

“You are not subtle at _all_ ,” Nikaido hisses after the meeting as they grab their bags.

“This coming from you,” Kitayama mutters. “What are you even on about?”

“Really, Mitsu?” Nikaido ignores his question. “I thought you had better taste than that one.”

“Better taste…” Kitayama starts to repeat, then realizes what Nikaido’s badly alluding to. “Oh my god, you think I was checking him out?”

“More like fucking him with your eyes,” Nikaido says bluntly. “Fangirls around the world would have spontaneously orgasmed if this meeting had been videotaped.”

“ _No_ ,” Kitayama says firmly, like he’s telling a dog not to jump. “I was not looking at him like that. Stop imagining shit— _you’re_ the one being a delusional fangirl.”

“I’m not, because it’s a _bad idea_ ,” Nikaido emphasizes. “Don’t dip your pen in the company ink!”

Kitayama smirks. “Again, this coming from you.”

“At least _his_ ink,” Nikaido amends, and both men make a face at the analogy. “He’s not even like us, is he?”

“I don’t actually know,” Kitayama replies, the pair of them eyeing Fujigaya contemplatively as he shifts his bag over his shoulder and laughs with Yokoo. “If he is, he doesn’t know it yet.”

“You’re the _last_ person who should help him figure it out, Mitsu,” Nikaido says pointedly. “Don’t do it.”

“Helping him figure it out doesn’t mean I have to sleep with him,” Kitayama protests.

Nikaido gives him a knowing look. “Yeah, just like you _helped_ me figure it out.”

“I doubt he’ll be as eager to experiment as you were,” Kitayama recalls fondly. “Now mind your own business.”

“You too, then,” Nikaido shoots back, and Kitayama makes a noncommittal noise as he heads home.

The next couple days are free, at least for Kitayama, and he distracts himself by hanging out with his mom and meeting up with Ohkura before Eito’s tour kicks off. Try as he might, though, he can’t get Fujigaya’s complete discomfort around women out of his mind. If he’d just been an observer that night, he would have thought Fujigaya was just trying to be cute, but Fujigaya’s freak-out in the bathroom had thwarted that theory. It’s almost like he was _afraid_ to be that close to them.

Kitayama snorts at the theory. Wouldn’t that just be ironic? He wouldn’t put it past Fujigaya to boast about being some kind of playboy when the girls he sleeps with basically have to tear off his clothes and jump on him. Girls probably like that kind of thing, anyway. Kitayama’s never understood women when it comes to relationships and sex. Men are much simpler.

At the same time, though, Kitayama feels sorry for him. He himself doesn’t remember what it was like before he accepted this part of himself, but he can’t imagine it’s very pleasant. He considers himself lucky that he figured it all out at a young age and didn’t have to go through the confusion and isolation for too long. His mother knows, his close friends know, and obviously his boyfriends know. What few boyfriends he’s had over the years, anyway.

Being famous means he has to hide who he is, and that’s fine with him. He knew that going in. He likes to joke that he’s paid to be gay enough, but all of the fanservice kind of makes it worse. He’ll be told to press up against someone—usually Fujigaya—or act cute and cuddly, and afterwards it’s exceptionally cold and lonely because it just _stops_. Especially Fujigaya, who abruptly runs in the other direction the second he’s allowed to like he can’t stand being next to Kitayama for one more second.

Even if Kitayama really doesn’t want to get involved with any of them, it’s still kind of a slap in the face and a huge reminder that this is the most intimacy he’s had lately. He gets laid, sure, but in the morning it’s over and any cuddling just prolongs the inevitable. Maybe in another ten years, the world will be a more accepting place and he’ll be able to actively search for a partner without causing a bigger scandal than Akanishi’s baby and potentially losing his job.

He’s snoozing on his couch when there’s a knock at the door, opening his eyes to see those ridiculous samurai movies that only come on TV in the middle of the night. He must have fallen asleep earlier while watching dramas. That happens more often than not, though it’s not as excusable now that Kitayama has nothing else to do with his time.

It’s 1:30am and the face on the other side of the door has Kitayama frowning. “You don’t just show up at people’s apartments in the middle of the night. What if I had been out?”

“You’re not out,” Fujigaya points out.

“What if I had been _indisposed_?” Kitayama goes on, feeling a little better as Fujigaya cringes at the thought. “Come in, idiot.”

Fujigaya steps inside and takes off his shoes, careless and calm, a little like a robot. Kitayama’s instantly concerned, because the Fujigaya showing up at his door at this hour should either be angry, upset, or drunk—some kind of extreme emotion, anyway. The Fujigaya who stands before him is showing _no_ emotion, even when he turns to look Kitayama dead in the eye. He looks a little tired, but his stance is unwavering.

“What?” Kitayama asks carefully. “What happened?”

“Who was the first person you came out to?” Fujigaya asks, his voice shaking a little.

Kitayama blinks. “My mother. Why?”

“Really?” Fujigaya asks, laughing a little nervously. “That’s awesome. Your mom is really cool.”

“She is,” Kitayama agrees. “What does that have to do with—”

“Kimura-senpai,” Fujigaya says firmly, like it’s something that should make sense on his own.

“What about Kimura-senpai?” Kitayama prompts him.

Fujigaya stares at him long enough for Kitayama’s eyes to widen. He couldn’t be referring to the same question he’d just asked Kitayama…right?

“Taisuke,” Kitayama says slowly, “are you serious?”

“Serious,” Fujigaya answers. “I’ve been wondering for a long time, you know. Why I act like that with girls. Then you just. Made it sound so simple. And okay. And. I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Kitayama’s heart breaks a little, because he sees before him his fourteen-year-old self in an adult world. “What did Kimura-senpai say?”

Now Fujigaya’s face breaks out into a grin, and Kitayama’s spirits are heightened. “He was great, Mitsu. I didn’t even mean to tell him, it just came out. He asked me if there were any girls I liked and I told him I don’t like girls. Just like that.”

Kitayama can’t help but smile, too. “How did that make you feel?”

“Like I just broke free from prison,” Fujigaya answers, still gaping at Kitayama like he’s in disbelief himself—and probably is. “He must have seen the surprise on my face, because he just laughed and told me it was okay. And I felt so much better.”

“I’m glad,” Kitayama says. “I really am.”

“Thank you,” Fujigaya says earnestly, and for the first time in almost a decade, Kitayama thinks they might be able to be friends again. “It’s because of you that I even considered admitting it to myself, so I’m indebted to you.”

“Not at all,” Kitayama protests. “I’m sure you’ll be much more pleasant to be around, which is repayment enough for me.”

“Mitsu, I…” Fujigaya starts, then trails off.

Kitayama notices the sudden change in Fujigaya’s expression and steps closer, looking up at Fujigaya’s face. One of the advantages of being short is that he can still catch someone’s eye when they’re staring down at the ground. “Spit it out, Taisuke.”

“I don’t know anyone else,” Fujigaya says quickly, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking almost as nervous as he had with the girls. “Just you.”

“I’ll see if the ones I know won’t mind me telling you,” Kitayama offers. “Of course, I’ll have to tell them about you in order to do so, but I trust them, so you should, too.”

“Right now, I only trust you,” Fujigaya says firmly, then laughs. “Never thought you’d hear me say that, did you?”

“Never,” Kitayama agrees. “There’s not much I can do for you, though. I mean, I can tell you stuff, whatever you want to know, but you have to understand that it could be different for you. Not everyone is the same, no matter which way they go.”

“I do understand that,” Fujigaya says, taking a deep breath before going on, “which is why I want to find out for myself.”

Kitayama’s eyes widen. “Taisuke.”

“Mitsu, a whole new door has been opened in front of me,” Fujigaya tells him, his eyes pleading while his cheeks are bright red, and not just from the cold night. “I am twenty-five years old and I have no idea what it’s like to be with someone I actually like. At least,” he adds in a rush, “someone who I’m attracted to.”

“You’re attracted to me?” Kitayama squawks.

“Ugh, yes, and I’ve hated myself forever over it,” Fujigaya answers, bringing his hands to his face. “At first I told myself it’s because you’re small with a girl face, then I thought it was an effect of being paired together so much, and finally I just gave up and tried to forget about it.”

Kitayama stares at him. “Forever?”

“I’m sorry, okay,” Fujigaya says into his hands. “I’ve been a dick to you. But we kept getting pushed together and I kept _feeling things_ and it scared the fuck out of me and—”

“Stop, just stop,” Kitayama cuts him off, and Fujigaya falls silent. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Say you won’t make me leave,” Fujigaya says, dropping his hands and lifting his eyes to Kitayama’s. It’s probably the bravest thing Kitayama’s ever seen him do; he knows he wouldn’t have been able to do it if he were in Fujigaya’s position. Fujigaya’s eyes are so vulnerable, like Kitayama can see straight through them into his soul, and it’s almost enough to make Kitayama ignore all of the warning bells in his head because right now Fujigaya _needs_ him.

Kitayama’s sigh is more for himself than for Fujigaya. “I won’t make you leave.”

Then Fujigaya smiles, and it’s different. All of the thoughts that have raced through Kitayama’s brain in the past two minutes screech to a halt as Fujigaya smiles like Kitayama’s never seen from him before. Whatever he’s feeling is real, Kitayama believes it, and the second he does, he realizes how much he’s wanted to believe it.

Kitayama may have been perfectly willing to admit his sexuality, but he wasn’t quite ready to admit that somewhere, deep down, he missed being with Fujigaya. As a friend, mostly, but now that the other option is on the table, all of his memories surface and his nerves fire up and everything mind-body-and-soul are in agreement that he should give this a chance, whatever it is, even if it has the potential of ending badly and affecting both of their careers.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Fujigaya says quietly, rooted where he stands, and the reality of all of this crashes down onto Kitayama at once, because this will be Fujigaya’s _first time_ with a man. Kitayama has to be the one to tell him it’s okay, to uphold the trust Fujigaya has in him and make him feel comfortable for probably the first time with another person.

“I can’t decide whether to punch you or kiss you,” Kitayama says honestly, and now he feels like the nervous virgin here as he waits for Fujigaya’s reaction like the fate of the free world depends on it.

What Fujigaya actually does is bite his lip, and Kitayama’s so entranced by the action that he almost doesn’t hear the response: “Let me decide for you, then.”

Then there are hands on his shoulders—light and trembling, but there nonetheless—and Kitayama automatically lifts his face to meet Fujigaya’s lips, soft and anxious. Something like a flood of sensations crash over Kitayama at once and he can’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around Fujigaya’s waist, hands grabbing onto Fujigaya’s back and holding him close as Kitayama kisses him like he wanted to years ago.

That desire had never fully gone away, and it takes him a second to accept that this is actually happening, that Fujigaya’s hands are getting more confident with each press of their lips together. They squeeze Kitayama’s shoulders and move down to his biceps, then loop around his neck as Fujigaya arches into him and Kitayama’s not too sure who actively deepens their kiss, just that their tongues are now touching and he’s about to lose his mind from it.

He almost whines when Fujigaya pulls away, blinking at him questioningly, but Fujigaya just licks his lips and looks apologetically down at Kitayama. “Just for an hour, pretend to like me?”

“I don’t have to pretend,” Kitayama answers, and Fujigaya’s eyes are still widening when Kitayama pulls him back into his mouth. Fujigaya’s breath is hot on his cheek as they kiss, nothing tentative or shameful about the way they chase each other’s tongues between their mouths, both clinging onto each other like they can’t get close enough, and this may be the most intense kiss Kitayama’s ever had.

One of Fujigaya’s hands slide up into Kitayama’s hair and Kitayama makes a low noise in the back of his throat, which has Fujigaya gradually pulling back. It takes a second for Kitayama to find his bearings, but then he’s focusing on Fujigaya up close, those gorgeous eyes that aren’t wide at all anymore and his lips that are plump and wet from kissing. He closes his mouth long enough to accept that he can’t completely breathe in through his nose, then inhales sharply before speaking.

“Can we, um,” he says quietly, cheeks already flaming, and Kitayama decides to save him the embarrassment and nods. It’s time for him to take over anyway, grabbing Fujigaya by the wrist and leading him down the hall, where he makes good on his words from the last time Fujigaya was in his bed and puts him right back there.

“Relax,” Kitayama says as Fujigaya already starts to tense beneath him. “It’s just me.”

Fujigaya blinks, then watches him curiously as he rummages around his drawer. “Is it going to hurt?”

“Nope,” Kitayama answers, grinning as he sets the lube and condoms a comfortable distance away and returns to straddling Fujigaya’s lap. “Because you’re doing me.”

“Oh.” Fujigaya looks disappointed, and Kitayama can’t hold back his amusement. “I mean, not that I wanted to—stop laughing at me!”

“Sorry,” Kitayama says, leaning down to kiss the pout off of his face. It works, naturally, and Fujigaya curls toward him as he drags his fingers up and down the back of Kitayama’s neck. This makes him shiver, which brings back that smug expression as Kitayama kisses his way down to Fujigaya’s ear. “We should do it this way first so that you know what to expect.”

“First?” Fujigaya repeats, squirming uncontrollably from Kitayama’s breath on his ear, and Kitayama blows pointedly to see if he can get a noise out of him. He gets a gasp, which is good enough for now. “Are we going to do it more than once?”

“If you want to,” Kitayama whispers. “We should at least try it both ways to see which one you like better.”

“Which one do you like better?” Fujigaya asks.

“This way,” Kitayama admits. “Though I don’t mind the other way. I just really like the…well, you’ll find out.”

“Okay,” Fujigaya agrees, arching as Kitayama licks his earlobe. “Mitsu, I…I don’t know what to do.”

“Just relax,” Kitayama says as he reaches for the hem of Fujigaya’s shirt. “The first thing we should do is get undressed. I think you can manage that.”

He pulls Fujigaya’s shirt over his head, eyes lingering on the expanse of golden skin that he’s finally allowed to appreciate until Fujigaya repeats the action on him. Fujigaya is quite competent at following the leader like this, which Kitayama thinks is to his advantage since he doesn’t have to give him verbal instructions. He starts in on Fujigaya’s pants and years of changing in forty-five seconds have the rest of their clothes kicked to the end of the bed in an instant, Fujigaya gasping again when their cocks bump.

A small moan escapes from Kitayama’s throat, and Fujigaya pulls him down for another kiss. Seems he likes that too, his hands a little firmer as they explore Kitayama’s back. Kitayama drops his own hands to Fujigaya’s waist, pushing them up his sides and around to the front, and Fujigaya gasps so much that Kitayama stops and leans back, concerned that the other man is going to hyperventilate.

His breathing calms the second Kitayama breaks contact, his eyes dark and hooded, and Kitayama frowns. “Has no one touched you like this before?”

“No one has touched me like you before,” Fujigaya replies, his voice all air.

Kitayama’s frown turns into a smirk. “As long as it feels good.”

“Oh, it does,” Fujigaya assures him. “Shift a little bit and you’ll be able to tell how good it feels.”

“In due time,” Kitayama says, returning to Fujigaya’s mouth like he never left. Their kiss gets so hot so fast that Kitayama ends up shifting anyway, groaning against Fujigaya’s tongue as their cocks slide together. He had all intentions of playing sex senpai and telling Fujigaya all of the different things they can do together as two men, but Fujigaya’s so hard and his body is so responsive that all Kitayama wants to do is move forward. Quickly.

It’s Fujigaya who initiates the next step, a shaky hand making its way between them and Kitayama lets it happen, pleased with his progress. Then again, he’s much older than Kitayama himself was the first time he did this, even Nikaido. And he probably wants it just as badly as Kitayama does at this point, his hips rocking into Kitayama’s slight thrusting that gives them just enough friction to want more.

Fujigaya wraps his fingers around Kitayama and squeezes, like he’s testing it, and Kitayama kisses him harder. Fujigaya starts to move his hand and Kitayama groans again, pushing into the funnel that Fujigaya’s making around him until Fujigaya tightens his grip and starts to stroke him properly. It feels so good that Kitayama has to grab his wrist, slowing him down, and naturally Fujigaya winces.

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” Kitayama assures him, his voice deeper than usual as he whispers against Fujigaya’s lips. “It’s _too_ good. Slow down, tease me a bit.”

Inhaling sharply, Fujigaya flicks his wrist at half the speed he had been before, swiping his thumb along the tip with each stroke and Kitayama shudders with his overwhelming need for more. He’s tempted to do the rest himself, but the point is for Fujigaya to know what to do and how Kitayama reacts so that he’ll be more comfortable when Kitayama does it to him.

“Taisuke,” he says, and Fujigaya grunts his acknowledgement. “Are you okay with moving on? Because I _really_ want you.”

“Yeah,” Fujigaya answers with absolutely no hesitation. “I really want you, too.”

Kitayama moans at that, pleased with hearing the words as he reluctantly removes Fujigaya’s hand from his cock. “This is your dominant hand, right?”

Nodding, Fujigaya watches as Kitayama retrieves the lube and coats three of his fingers. “Am I going to put these…”

“Yes,” Kitayama answers. “Don’t think too hard about it.”

Fujigaya looks like he was asked to do the impossible, and Kitayama just smiles as he leans forward to put his mouth next to Fujigaya’s ear. His words are about to get real dirty, and the quieter he can say them, the better. He guides Fujigaya’s hand between his legs, gasping at the first touch of curious fingers, and gets started.

“Use your middle finger first,” he whispers. “Circle the rim a bit, until I relax enough for you to push it in. When you can, just do a little bit at first, moving it in and out until you can fit more.”

Fujigaya’s just as good at following directions as he is at repeating actions, gasping a little as Kitayama’s body reacts to his initial touch. Kitayama distracts himself by mouthing at Fujigaya’s neck, which has Fujigaya going a little faster until he has one finger all the way in, grazing Kitayama’s insides and making him moan into Fujigaya’s skin.

“Now push in your pointer finger, just like the first one. When you get that one in, curl them a bit and move them back and forth.”

Once again Fujigaya does what he’s told, breathing heavily as he eases in the second finger. Kitayama’s more than relaxed, rocking back as Fujigaya starts to finger him properly, speeding up to match Kitayama’s nonverbal demands. He spreads and scissors his fingers on his own, opening Kitayama up a little more and pushing in deeper.

“You’re pretty good at this,” Kitayama tells him, then groans out loud as Fujigaya grazes his prostate. “Right there, Taisuke, oh my god please do that again.”

“Right here?” Fujigaya breathes, touching that spot again, and Kitayama nods in case his moan isn’t affirmation enough. “This is the part you really like, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Kitayama gets out, clinging to Fujigaya’s shoulders as the other man stimulates him deep inside. “I’m ready for your ring finger, but slow down first.”

Fujigaya chokes on his air as he does exactly that, carefully inserting the third finger alongside the others and stretching Kitayama even more. “So tight,” he mutters.

“Yeah,” Kitayama says, smiling as he lifts his head enough to see Fujigaya’s face. He’s biting his lip hard enough to leave a mark, concentrating fully on his ministrations, and Kitayama leans down to pull the lip out of his teeth with his own. “You’re doing great, we’re almost there.”

“Are we going to do it like this?” Fujigaya asks, his other hand lifting to grasp Kitayama’s thigh. He makes a surprised face and Kitayama looks at him questioningly. “Not used to feeling hair here.”

Kitayama laughs until Fujigaya hits his prostate again, then moans against his lips. “I’d rather you roll us over and take me that way. Can you do that?”

Fujigaya’s eyes darken even more. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Almost,” Kitayama promises as he reaches to the side again.

Something finally sounds from Fujigaya when Kitayama rolls the condom onto him, a quick moan that comes out with his exhale, but that’s all Kitayama gets even when he lathers on more lube. All three of Fujigaya’s fingers are moving in and out easily, and Kitayama can’t wait one second longer before rolling onto his back himself and pulling Fujigaya on top of him.

“Fuck me,” he says clearly, looking right into Fujigaya’s eyes, and Fujigaya pulls out his fingers and kneels between Kitayama’s legs, which spread on their own.

“Oh my god,” Fujigaya says before he’s even pushing in, the head of his cock breaching Kitayama’s rim. “Are you sure this doesn’t hurt?”

“If you spend enough time stretching, it feels really— _ah_ —good,” Kitayama replies, his hips snapping involuntarily as Fujigaya slowly buries himself in all the way. “You spent more time than I’m used to, so I’m beyond ready for you to move.”

Fujigaya braces himself with his arms on either side of Kitayama, his bangs falling into his face as he tentatively pulls back and pushes back in. Kitayama arches and moans, grabbing onto both of Fujigaya’s biceps and yanking him down into his mouth. Another advantage of being short is kissing during sex without feeling like a pretzel, their bodies lining up perfectly as Fujigaya loops his arms around Kitayama’s thighs and thrusts into him harder.

Kitayama’s next moan dies on Fujigaya’s tongue as Fujigaya hits him just right, which seems to be noted by the latter because Fujigaya keeps aiming for that spot. Kitayama’s ready to explode, meeting Fujigaya’s efforts in tandem and he already knows his hips are going to hurt tomorrow. Good thing they’re not dancing again for awhile.

“Mitsu,” Fujigaya says quietly; if it wasn’t right against Kitayama’s lips, he probably wouldn’t hear it. “Mitsu, oh my god.”

“Touch me,” Kitayama replies, prying one of Fujigaya’s arms away from his thigh himself. “Touch me the way you touch yourself. Get me off, and come with me.”

“I don’t want it to end yet,” Fujigaya pants, leaning to the side to hold up his weight as he wraps fingers around Kitayama’s cock and instantly moans loud enough to shock them both. “Oh _fuck_ , you just got so much tighter.”

“It gets better,” Kitayama chokes out, because Fujigaya’s spreading the precome on the head and Kitayama can’t remember how to speak very well. “And we can do it again later, you know.”

Fujigaya just nods, clearly done talking, and his hand quickens in time with his thrusts. His noises also get louder, much to Kitayama’s enjoyment as each one takes him higher. He can tell when Fujigaya’s about to come by the way he starts to falter in his rhythm, moaning with every quick breath and Kitayama fists his hair to pull him up in time to see his face.

It’s beautiful, his eyes fluttering shut as his lips part for a long, drawn-out groan, and that’s inevitably what has Kitayama tensing and coming over Fujigaya’s fingers. Fujigaya instantly collapses onto Kitayama’s chest, whining a little as the mess gets on his own skin, and Kitayama bursts out laughing.

“You’re not supposed to laugh right now,” Fujigaya says flatly. “God, I feel like a fucking virgin again.”

“You were great,” Kitayama assures him, lifting a hand to run through Fujigaya’s wild sex hair. Fujigaya moans a little at the touch, pushing his head into it like a cat. “Especially when you make noises like this.”

“I have _never_ been that loud,” Fujigaya tells him, sounding both embarrassed and surprised about it. “Just…it’s so much different than being with a girl.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Kitayama says quietly, and Fujigaya leans back to stare at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” Fujigaya replies quickly, which has Kitayama raising an eyebrow. “It’s stupid.”

“Most of what you say is stupid,” Kitayama teases, and Fujigaya punches him gently in the shoulder.

“What…” Fujigaya begins, his sex flush tinting redder as he pauses, and Kitayama wonders if he knows that his true feelings shine right on his face. “What happens now?”

“Now?” Kitayama repeats, trying to remain casual despite the rapid beating of his heart that has nothing to do with physical exertion. “Now we take a bath.”

Fujigaya blinks. “A bath.”

“Yes.” Kitayama gently pushes Fujigaya off of him, wincing as he stretches out his legs. “Because I feel really sore and a little gross.”

“Yeah?” Fujigaya questions, that cocky grin returning to his face, and Kitayama may have missed it a little. “That means it was good, right?”

“Shut up and take care of me,” Kitayama snaps at him, but Fujigaya doesn’t stop grinning. “It’s your place as the top.”

He expects Fujigaya to argue, but instead he’s half-ass carried into his own bathroom and given quite an attentive bath, though there’s more kissing than washing. It’s obvious to Kitayama that Fujigaya has already become attached to him, regardless of whether it’s just for support or whether there’s actually something behind it, and the more he feels Fujigaya’s hands on him in the warm water, the more okay with it he becomes. It’s not like he’s in love with the guy or anything, though it’s nice to feel like it for once.

After a long bath, Kitayama shows Fujigaya how it’s done the other way and Fujigaya gets much louder, especially when Kitayama finds his spot and makes him feel for himself why Kitayama likes it so much. Then Fujigaya’s riding him harder than his accent dances, bouncing with each of Kitayama’s sharp thrusts from below, taking him in deep and loving every second of it.

Kitayama watches Fujigaya’s lean body rock on top of his, his back arched all the way up to display his throat quite nicely, and Kitayama thinks he could get used to this, as frightening as that thought is. It has him grabbing Fujigaya’s arm and pulling him down, stretching up to latch his mouth onto that throat and hold him close, both feet planted firmly on the bed and both hands tight on Fujigaya’s hips to push him down in contrast to each snap upward.

Fujigaya falls apart when Kitayama takes his cock in hand, thrashing on top of him and clinging to Kitayama even after he comes, which has him squeezing so tightly around Kitayama that he can’t help but follow. The aftercare process repeats itself, but this time Fujigaya’s limp in Kitayama’s arms and despite their size difference, it feels nice. He crabs the entire rest of the night and the next morning about his ass hurting, but Kitayama expects that. Some things never change, after all.

Nikaido knows right away, but Kitayama surprisingly doesn’t get a lecture from the prying kouhai. Probably because he sees what Kitayama sees when Fujigaya looks at him now, even in the middle of meetings or TV interviews, like he actually gives a crap about Kitayama’s opinion, like he’s worth paying attention to. To Kitayama, it’s a little more than that.

And if he stops by Kitayama’s apartment after a long day of drama filming more often than not, well, that’s their business.

“It’s that time of the month again!” Fujigaya declares a few weeks later, flopping halfway onto Kitayama’s lap while the others are conveniently busy.

“Grossing me out is not conducive to your intentions,” Kitayama tells him, slinging his arm casually around Fujigaya’s waist. “What did you have in mind this time? The club?”

“Nope,” Fujigaya says, getting comfortable even though they probably look ridiculous. “I thought we could, you know, actually go on a date.”

Kitayama’s still staring at him when Yokoo walks in to get his bag. He gives them a casual nod up, then spins back to gape at them. “Did you two turn into Tama and Miyacchi?”

“I resent that comparison,” Kitayama replies, not taking his eyes away from Fujigaya, who doesn’t seem to have heard Yokoo at all. “Are you serious?” he asks Fujigaya, not bothering to lower his voice. They’ll all find out eventually anyway.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Fujigaya replies. “We have to be seen together in public together, may as well take advantage of it.”

“Well…okay,” Kitayama says, and Fujigaya gives him that genuine smile again. Now Kitayama feels like the inexperienced one, because he doesn’t think he’s actually been on a real date before, at least one that wasn’t just a prelude to sex. Since Fujigaya can get that whenever he wants, there’s no reason to waste time going out beforehand.

Kitayama figures the best way to share the news with the rest of the group is to grab Fujigaya by the collar and pull him into a kiss, to which Fujigaya responds wholeheartedly as he turns to curl up in Kitayama’s lap. Kitayama’s only regret is that he can’t see Yokoo’s face, just hear the gasp of shock and practically the eyeroll that follows it as he walks right out of the room without a word.

When they pull apart, Fujigaya’s cheeks are tinted red. “Embarrassing.”

“Now we don’t have to tell anyone,” Kitayama points out. “Yokoo will only whine to the other members of our group and trustworthy mutual friends. It saves us a lot of effort, really.”

“Laziest way of coming out,” Fujigaya teases him, and Kitayama just shrugs as he kisses him again.


End file.
